Chiaroscuro
by Doubleplusgoodduckspeaker
Summary: It was like looking into a mirror, but not one that showed your reflection as you are, in that moment. When Ryou looked at him he saw what he thought was a stronger, darker version of himself. What he could be. Batteryshipping: JounouchixRyouxDark Bakura


Written for Tier 5 of Ryou VeRua's YGO Fanfiction Contest, Challenge Pairing: Batteryshipping: Dark BakuraxJounouchixRyou. An alternate interpretation/retelling of Ryou originally acquiring the Millennium Ring, and of the events that follow (story told in medias res).

* * *

><p><strong>Chiaroscuro<strong>

_"What dreams may come, both dark and deep,  
>of flying wings and soaring leap,<br>as I surrender unto sleep..."  
>—Charles Anthony Silvestri<em>

"_I never saw so much expression in an inanimate thing before, and we all know how much expression they have! I used to lie awake as a child and get more entertainment and terror out of blank walls and plain furniture than most children could find in a toy store."_

—_The Yellow Wallpaper_

"Goodnight, Ryou."

His father turned in early that night, giving Ryou a sad smile as he started to shut off the lights in the other rooms of the house. One by one he erased that path of illumination until Ryou was left alone in his own bedroom. He had been reading a book, something magical and thrilling, and the hours passed much more quickly than in his world of printed pages. By the time he had finished, it was already well into the night.

Content, he switched off the lamp beside his bed and turned over, closing his eyes. He still wasn't quite used to the room—it was his old furniture, but everything was still different, bed pushed up into one corner, only one small window with stuck blinds to let in the light. The walls were painted blue, which he didn't really mind, but at night all color seemed to leach from the room, leaving a grey box dappled with shadows. He, too, looked drab and colorless in this room. There was a wall-mounted mirror across from his bed—cheap, unframed; drab, colorless.

Ryou didn't know what woke him up, or even if he was still dreaming—bleary-eyed, the hands on his wristwatch seemed to be in three places at once—but he rubbed at his eyes until his vision cleared.

Turning over, his eyes met his own in the mirror.

The reflection, unmoving, grinned back at him.

* * *

><p>At first, Ryou thought it was nothing. He could meld the world of imagination with the world around him—he read somewhere that flowers grew better in happier, sunnier environments and so he would imagine them personalities, prickly or cheerful, until he could greet them by name. Trees varied as well, from the young, thin-branched trees whose branches waved at him in each passing breeze to the old, gnarled cherry tree that was split apart one day after a fierce lightning storm. He even imagined that shadows could move by themselves, alter images of their colorful counterparts. They could even go missing from time to time, and he would have to track them down and return them to their rightful places. His own shadow was a bit of a trickster, growing long at one moment and snapping back shorter the next. He imagined it stuck one day in a revolving door.<p>

It all changed the night that his world changed forever. He didn't feel like himself, dressed in black like a shadow, mourning the twist of fate that had left his father and him alone, together. Their house was too big, or maybe they were too small, and at night Ryou would curl up underneath his blankets and stare at the patterns the shadows cast on the walls until he fell asleep.

He couldn't remember exactly when they started to move, but they did, and by then he had just begun to accept it. The weak moonlight that filtered in through his window threw his bedroom furniture into sharp relief; big block-like shapes that gathered in at the waist danced around the other shadows of his room. The row of stuffed animals on his dresser he had resolved to never move again because Amane had put them there, but their shadows shared no such compunctions, rising up and mixing together before his waking eyes. Lines became curves. In the places where the shadows fell just so he could see a strange, formless sort-of figure that seemed to skulk about in the patches of deepest darkness. Ryou would move nothing but his eyes, afraid that if he even stretched his legs it would break the spell and he would once again be alone.

…

Ryou would find reasons to turn in for the night even earlier than usual, shutting himself into his room to watch. He quite liked the shadows. He must have fallen asleep, for when he woke up in the middle of the night he was not quite sure if he was inside a dream or not—it happened often, that his muddled brain, fuzzy with sleep, would carry over a bit of his dream into his waking life. He got out of bed and decided he was a shadow, and would dance with them.

So he stumbled around his room and turned around and around, and in the dim light he was able to catch his still, watchful reflection in the seconds before he turned again. Several seconds passed; the shadows continued to climb up the walls of his room.

Then Ryou's mind woke up like he had been submerged in ice-water; gasping, he slipped and caught himself, one knee on the floor, staring upwards at the mirror. He pressed a finger to the mirror's surface hesitantly, as if for a second he truly believed it would sink through into a shadowy world of his imagination.

What he hadn't realized was that he was already there.

His not-reflection peered down at him. The distance between them made Ryou look worshipful; he was quite satisfied with that. "I've been waiting quite some time for you to wake up," he said, leaning forward a bit so Ryou could see him better.

It was like looking into a mirror, but not one that showed your reflection as you are, in that moment. When Ryou looked at him he saw what he thought was a version of himself, changed somehow, into something wilder and fierce. A stronger, darker version of himself. What he _could_ be.

"I'm sorry," Ryou said, more by force of habit than anything else. "So I'm not in a dream…?"

"No," answered his shadow, beckoning him to stand. His forehead pressed lightly against the cool glass of the mirror.

_You're in a nightmare_.

…

It was quite natural to give this piece of himself a part of his name, and soon it became more than a reflex, but what he thought of first instead of his own family name. When he was alone in his room and the shadows seemed to twist around his lampshade, he knew it was _his_ doing. When he saw his silhouette, enlarged onto the wall, Ryou called out to him by name. And when he leant up in his bed to look at his reflection in the mirror, Bakura's face, not his own, grinned back at him.

…

Ryou covered his mouth as he yawned. Maybe if he sat up straighter in his chair, it would help keep him focused, but the days just seemed so long. His father was right—he had been keeping to himself lately.

"What game are you playing?" He had only just noticed three classmates in the row beside him, hunched over a game board set between them.

"We're playing Monster World!" one of them said, picking up two dice in his hand. He rolled them, and then cheered after he looked cautiously at the number shown on the dice. "Forty! Yeah! No monsters for me this time."

"In the game, we're trying to defeat the Dark Master," another said, pointing his thumb to the third person playing, a girl that was nearly as quiet as him in class.

"Well, I didn't want to be the villain," she said defensively, crossing her arms. "I got the lowest starting roll, so I picked last."

Ryou studied the board—a small town was in one corner, and a long winding path stretched upwards to a dark castle in the opposite side. He had always liked games—he was quite good at them too, and that always helped. "I-I could be the Dark Master…I mean, if that's all right, and nobody else wanted that part…"

He smiled shyly at them, the cautious smile of a new friendship. They shuffled around the board to make room for him, and he joined them, genuinely pleased to be included. He wanted friends, and they wanted someone to play the game with. They wanted a villain. He wanted to play the game with them. One of them picked up the dice and rolled. A low number—low enough that a monster would appear on the field with them. A powerful monster. Ryou felt himself smiling as together, they defeated the monster, but not without considerable damage. He liked this game. It was a long game—it would take some time before they even made it to his castle. That was all right. They had plenty of time.

Another roll. A nine, and then another nine. Bakura smiled. He liked this game. He liked being the Dark Master.

…

Ryou gulped the coffee down, trying to swallow quickly so he didn't have the bitter taste in his mouth. His father drank it sometimes, and so they kept a little of it in the house. Ryou liked sweet things—he didn't like this drink very much, but he had to stay awake.

That night was terrible. He lasted until well after midnight, but his eyelids started to get heavier and heavier. His head fell forwards. Just one sweet moment of sleep—

He jerked awake, gasping, the numbers on the digital clock a scrambled mess in his delirium. He pinched himself; yes, he was certain he was awake. He had to stay awake.

First it was one of them, then another. Only last week he had overheard their teacher mentioning to another that the girl had fallen into a coma as well. He was the last one left. A wild thought escaped his mind—did that mean he had won their game of Monster World?

He scrambled to his feet although he could barely stay awake—he tried to walk in a circle but stumbled, and so he sat on the floor in the middle of his room, staring dumbly ahead of him, snapping his fingers to distract himself from his own exhaustion.

He was next. He was certain of it.

"Why don't you go to sleep?"

It was Bakura, the shadow in his mirror. He had come to the front of the mirror after hiding just out of sight for weeks. Ryou had only been able to made out the edges of him before he had retreated even further into shadow.

"I can't," Ryou said, his words slurred. "If I stay awake then I can't be asleep."

Bakura nodded, although he continued to scowl at him. "It's a good plan," he said dispassionately, as if they were talking about anything else, "but it can't outlast a siege. The longer you go without sleep, the more the defenses of your mind will wear themselves out. It makes it even easier for the culprit to get inside." He stopped, and then turned to look right at him. "You're not only presenting him with the door, you've already given him the key."

"How do you know that?" Ryou asked, something prickling at the warm fuzziness of his mind. His instincts were already dulled by exhaustion; he heard Bakura but he didn't quite understand him. Bakura was only a shadow of himself, trapped inside the darkness of his room. He couldn't get out. What could he know? "You know who is behind all of this?"

"Yes, I do." Bakura smiled, and Ryou saw something in that smile he recognized. Two dice, rolled out onto a bright game board. Ninety-nine.

"Then who is it?" Ryou felt himself slipping—if he truly was going to fall asleep, he had to know, before…

Bakura brought his arms forwards, towards the glass surface of the mirror, towards Ryou. They kept going and going, impossibly forwards, until his hands came through the other side of the mirror. Ghostly pale, the fingers clenched the sides of the mirror. He pulled himself through.

Ryou could only watch, half-fascinated, but the other half had only just begun to worry. Bakura's upper body was already through, his hair hanging downwards, reflected properly in the mirror even as he continued to free himself from it.

Bakura stood calmly in a patch of shadow before the mirror. "It's me."

Ryou's body jerked, trying to fight off another wave of exhaustion. He looked up at Bakura and shivered. "You…You're scaring me."

"What you presume about me and what I actually am may overlap, but are often quite distinct," he said, approaching Ryou, who had yet to move at all from the center of the room. "But that's hardly important. _You_ took on the role of the Dark Master—so while I may have helped, you really deserve most of the credit."

Bakura crouched down so he was closer to Ryou, but he still looked down at him. "You're me, remember? A reflection of me, at the very least… what you _could_ be. What you _are_."

And he was. Blinking back sleep, Ryou looked down at his palms, dark with stripes of shadow. It was his fault. Bakura was right. Had he been right… all along? What about his family—_Amane_—!

"First my family… and then my friends… what do you plan to take from me next?" Shadows swirled around the room, dancing with a frenzy that he had to look away. He wanted so desperately to close his eyes. To surrender. To push everything away and just sink deep into himself.

A bright game board. Two dice rolled—zero, zero.

"You're a monster," Ryou whispered. He closed his eyes and slept, his body motionless in the middle of the room except for the steady rise and fall of his chest. Bakura looked down at the sleeping boy. He was foolish—but it was fortunate for him. Bakura was simply better at this game.

He stretched his hands, then each finger. He really needed to get out more often.

…

He had gotten a better job at the Domino Museum.

The house was simply too large for the two of them anymore—they barely saw each other.

Moving would be a fresh start, something he was sure they both needed.

Ryou knew better. They were running.

True, their numbers had been lucky so far. Ryou knew this job would suit his father much better, and although he hated the idea of leaving behind a place that held such happy memories, now, they terrified him. He jumped at every shadow. He attempted to mask the dark circles under his eyes, but he knew that he could never truly hide them.

His father had been on the phone for hours. First with the school officials—_three children all from the same class, that's not a coincidence_—and then with the new school. Calls to the real estate agent to sell their house, to buy another one in a good neighborhood.

Ryou heard them all from another room. He'd never seen his father like this before. It was one of the first times he imagined what he must be feeling—sadness, numbness, grief. Yet he had to be strong for them. They had each curled in on themselves, but hadn't reached out to each other. They could have helped each other. Ryou looked around the room—he had kept it exactly the same, Amane was always very particular about where everything went, but if they were moving it would all be disturbed eventually—and plucked a stuffed cat from the top of her nightstand. He hugged it to himself, because despite everything, he couldn't move, speak, or do anything that might help set things right.

…

"Ryou, do you need another box?"

"Yes," he answered. Small piles of clothing, books, and school supplies were scattered around him—he was tackling his closet first. The new box all opened and taped, he started to fill it. First the books, and then a half-filled photo album. He fished further into his closet, pulling out a few battered shoeboxes. One held a truly terrible craft project; he discarded the contents and lifted open the lid of the second box. Laid in a layer of fluffy cotton, the kind that lined jewelry boxes, was a circle-shaped pendant with five hanging tines and a triangle in its center. He stared at it, transfixed by the stylized eye that seemed to look out just as much as he looked in.

He had completely forgotten about it—it was a present from his father's most recent dig in Egypt. Like most other presents, he had admired it once, set the box on a shelf in his closet, and promptly forgotten it.

Ryou reached out and carefully touched one of the spines, as if testing for sharpness. It ghosted over the eye, and then upwards to the loop. He would need to get a cord or something for it.

He closed the lid of the box and gently laid it beside the photo album. An armful of toys went tumbling in afterwards, nearly hiding it from view. A strip of tape, and the box was sealed.

* * *

><p>"You're… um…Ryou! Hi, I'm Yugi." He seemed to speak for the entire group clustered behind him, a cheerful smile on his face. Ryou would quickly learn that Yugi Moto couldn't <em>not<em> be friends with someone. That was that, and he didn't really have much say in the matter.

Ryou had tried to shy away from the other students, but as the days passed he began to assume a new, less cautious routine. He joked and talked with his father over dinner. For the most part, he slept through the nights. And he was starting to believe that, maybe, he could open up the guarded parts of himself without fear.

"You _are_ coming to lunch, right?" It was the loud one, Jounouchi, which had called out to him. He waited beside the door of the classroom while a few other students dashed by him.

Ryou hesitated.

"If you don't, Yugi will be sad."

"_Only_ Yugi?" he asked. It was impulsive, unlike him.

Jounouchi had the decency to look sheepish. "That's not what I meant," he said, trying to laugh it off. "We all think of you as our friend. Now come on… lunch waits for no man." They left the classroom together.

"I don't know if you want me as a friend," Ryou said, looking down at his feet. He had practically whispered, but Jounouchi heard him anyways.

"What are you talking about?" They turned one corner and went down another hall. "Look, Ryou, it's not like you're evil or anything. And besides, we're tough." He made a fist with one hand, punched his other open palm.

Ryou stopped in the nearly-empty hallway, twisting the tip of his shoe into the floor. He wanted to leave a mark there. "B-but what if I am?"

"Hmmm…" Jounouchi stopped alongside him, and made a show of studying Ryou. "Well then, it's a good thing that I have the ability to tell if someone is good or bad." He said it simply, like a matter of fact. "I have experience at this." Jounouchi assumed his most doctor-ly attitude and walked in a circle around Ryou, who had gone completely still.

"Well then! Just as I thought," he said, eyes downcast, head shaking sadly.

"What?"

"You… are completely normal. Better than good. I should be taking notes from you," Jounouchi said, laughing. He playfully clapped Ryou's shoulder. "Let's hurry up! Everyone's waiting for us."

* * *

><p>"That's really cool," Ryou said, nodding towards the pendant Yugi wore on a chain around his neck.<p>

"Thanks!" Yugi smiled at him. "It's made up of Puzzle pieces—when you put them together, they make this. It was really tricky… it took me a long time to finish, but I really like games and puzzles."

"I like games and puzzles too." Yugi reached into the pocket of his backpack, pulling out a small folder. "That reminds me! The pictures Anzu took a few days ago—she developed them, and made a few copies for everyone."

He passed over a few glossy pictures, and Ryou took them. There were two of the whole group—one traditional picture, and one silly pose. There was one just of Ryou—it was a candid shot, he remembered, and the picture showed him looking bewildered, before he even got a chance to smile for the camera. Jounouchi was in the background, completely unaware that he was even in the shot, half of a French fry hanging from his mouth.

When Ryou got to his room that afternoon, he carefully took the pictures and laid them in a row on his bed. He hunted around his room for several minutes, before realizing he had never unpacked that box—it and several others were stacked in one corner of his room. He sliced open the tape with a pair of scissors and reached inside.

He set aside several armfuls of toys and other boxes before finding the photo album. Pictures crowded together in the beginning pages; as if he were afraid he would run out of room. There were several of the family at various tourist sites, beaches, and shrines. A few pictures were of birthdays—Ryou had cake smeared on his face in one, but he still grinned proudly at the camera.

He turned to the first empty page and slid in the candid picture, and then the one of the whole group standing and smiling right at the camera. The goofy one he saved for last—he hadn't even realized they were going to take another picture.

"_Ryou! Why are you standing on the end like that? Are you trying to wander off or something?"_

"_Jounouchi, that makes absolutely no sense—"_

"_Here, move over, go get in the front!"_

_**FLASH**_

"…_Let's do it over, Ryou probably blocked my head…"_

"_It's your own fault—wait, that was another picture?"_

It had turned out well enough, he supposed. Anzu had made a stylized pyramid with her arms around Honda's hair, and Yugi had balanced on his tiptoes, holding onto Jounouchi's shoulder for support. With his other hand, he was shoving Ryou in front of him. Ryou wasn't even looking at the camera, his face was turned to the side—he looked irritated but it barely showed, because his smile looked… it looked like the earlier pictures, when he was completely happy. His face was a little red, though.

Wait… no, it couldn't be. He wasn't blushing! No way. That was just silly.

Ryou closed the album a little harsher than he intended, and then set it delicately on his nightstand beside a stack of novels he had been meaning to read. After a while, he got up and went over to the half-unpacked box. He might as well get it out of the way.

The toys went around his room if he liked them, into his closet if he didn't. He opened the shoebox, pulling out the ring-shaped pendant inside it. _Right_! He must have some string or a cord around somewhere for it.

It took a few minutes, but he found a cord strong enough to hold up the ring. He looped it around several times, and then tied it off at a comfortable length. It was only after he slipped it around his neck and studied himself in the mirror that he remembered what had struck him about Yugi's necklace. The stylized eye in the center looked nearly identical in both of them.

* * *

><p>Ryou didn't know what woke him up, or even if he was still dreaming—bleary-eyed, the hands on his wristwatch seemed to be in three places at once—but he rubbed at his eyes until his vision cleared.<p>

Turning over, his eyes met his own in the mirror.

The reflection, unmoving, grinned back at him.

"Have you missed me, Ryou?"

Ryou couldn't move, could barely breathe because somehow Bakura had found him _how had he found him_—

"I must say, it was a clever thing you did, moving to this city. You couldn't escape me, of course, but this makes my job _much_ easier," Bakura said, hovering at the edge of the mirror. "Don't you just love Domino? It's the perfect city for people like us."

"I'm not like you."

Bakura arched one eyebrow. "Oh? But you are, Ryou. You're more like me than you know. But you shouldn't worry… we can look out for each other. I'll let you get some sleep. Good night, Ryou." He vanished into the shadows, but Ryou could still see him, lurking, watching, and lying in wait.

* * *

><p>In the nights that followed it became harder to differentiate still shadows from those that moved. Ryou would pull the sheets up to his nose until only his eyes were visible, shining like a cat's in the darkness. It made him a target.<p>

_There!_ No, it was only shadows cast by a row of action figures lined up at the windowsill. Ryou leaned up in bed, seeing his own shadow move, enlarged onto the wall, matching his frightened expression in the mirror that hung on the wall right across from the bed.

Except it wasn't his eyes that he saw. It was the _other _him, the one that lived in the mirror. He lived in shadows too, and occasionally he would edge out from behind the mirror and creep around the room from shadow to shadow, bringing the darkness to life. Ryou was frightened, because he couldn't bring himself to sleep, unprotected, in the darkness; even awake the eyes, _his _eyes seemed to follow him everywhere, and he felt it crawling under his skin and prickling at his neck.

Desperately, he flung his arm out and switched on the lamp beside his bed. It cast a dim pool of light that curved around that corner of the room, chasing some of the shadows away. Ryou pulled his knees up to his chest, keeping himself entirely within the protective circle. As he slowly fell asleep, some of the weight lifted from his shoulders, he could hear _his_ voice laughing and his hands softly clapping; the Dark Master conceding the round, but never the battle.

* * *

><p>Ryou came back from school the next day with a mission. He knew his father was working late that week for an upcoming exhibition at the Museum, and so he would have the house to himself. He had all the tools he needed, and enough time to fix any damage he might cause.<p>

He set out the hammer and chisels in a row on his bed, along with the lantern and all of the flashlights he could find in the house. He had already raised the blinds so the sun could further brighten the space. Light would cast a shadow, but he wanted as much light as possible all the same.

He was ready. Shrugging off his jacket, and touching the spines of his pendant for reassurance—he had worn it underneath his shirt that day, he didn't want Yugi to think he was copying him—he reached for the chisel.

He didn't care if he had to tear the wall down, the mirror was coming off.

A flashlight in one hand and a chisel in the other, he started with one corner. There was a funny sort-of molding around the mirror, a shaped and scrolled frame that was made of wood, and so he set upon that. It came off in fragments, the chips of wood falling on the towel he had laid out. It made everything a little dusty, but it didn't take long to pry most of it off. Like ripping off a sticker, most of it came out right away, but there were always bits that resiliently clung on despite his best efforts.

The mirror. He switched the smallest flashlight on and set it between his teeth, picked up a tool in each hand, and wedged the chisel into the minuscule space between the mirror and the wall. _Bang!_ went the hammer. He slid the chisel deeper in, forcing it farther behind the mirror, driving the hammer home again. _Bang! Bang! Bang!_

He swung downwards and missed, striking the mirror itself and splintering the glass. Cracks spider-webbed outwards, and when Ryou stopped to inspect the damage he saw himself reflected in each splintered piece.

The top loosened, he grasped the corners of the mirror with both hands and _pulled_. He heard the plaster break behind the mirror, and the whole thing came yawning down. He shrieked and jumped backwards, just out of the way, grasping for the flashlights and holding them out like shields.

The mirrored glass fell, half onto the towel and the rest on the floor, cracking in great jagged pieces under its own weight, smaller fragments skittering outwards towards him, towards the bed, and towards the door. Ryou aimed the light at the swath of uncovered wall. Where the rest of the room was painted blue, this part was painted what once had been white—even as he looked at it, it seemed to become more yellowed and aged. The mirror had probably been put up when the house had been built. He would have to ask his dad how old it was.

Keeping a vigilant watch on the room, he began to stack pieces of the mirror. He didn't have that much time until the sun started to go down, and he wanted to be finished before then. He'd wrap the pieces in grocery bags and throw them into the dumpster.

The big pieces had been easy, but several trips later he was still finding small stray pieces of mirror to throw away. He spotted one piece near the window and when he reached down to pick it up, his thumb grazed against a sharp broken edge.

"Ow!" Ryou frowned hatefully at the fragment. This thing just wouldn't give up. He went to the bathroom to run water over the scrape; it was bleeding, but it would clot soon enough. He was careless.

Ryou took his time cleaning the rest of the shards, and then cleaned the floor for good measure in case there was any sawdust or slivers left behind. Finished, he decided that he would paint the open patch blue the next day… it was unnerving to look at.

He sat on the bed, kicking his feet up and under to the dark space underneath. His feet skimmed the floor before resting there, one tucked behind the other. Ryou looked fondly at the ring that hung around his neck. Maybe it was a good luck charm. He stretched; he hadn't remembered ever feeling this sleepy. All that work must have tired him out; he could barely keep his eyes open. Just a little nap wouldn't hurt…

* * *

><p>"Come on in."<p>

"Wow, Ryou! Your house is pretty nice," Yugi said, stepping over the threshold first, Honda and Jounouchi following soon after, Anzu last, smiling and thanking him for inviting them over.

Yugi was still fascinated by the house, studying a set of framed photographs hanging on one wall. "You said your father went on a dig in Egypt once, right? Do you have anything from Egypt?"

"Maybe a few things," Bakura said, smiling. "But for now, I thought we'd play a game. It'll be quick, I promise." He got the materials from a small box and started laying them out on the coffee table as the group gathered around it. "It's called Monster World."

"How do you play?" Anzu asked.

"First, you pick your character. You can be whomever you want—a Warrior, a Magician, even a Magic Gunman or an Enchanter," Bakura said, nodding to each of them in turn. He picked up the glossy map and unrolled it, weighting the edges down. "The adventurers' goal is to defeat the Dark Master: he lives in that castle there. But you have to get there first, and there are plenty of monsters lurking along the way."

"Sounds fun," Honda said, stretching out his feet underneath the table. They rolled the dice, leaving the town and entering a dark forest. The game started; they peered at the illustrations of the map, only to realize that it wasn't a map at all. The ground was soft underneath their feet; the fullness of the tree branches cut out most of the light, and so the group proceeded cautiously, wary to the appearance of a monster. So far, things were on their side. Yugi lead the way, using his magician's staff to lift the wayward branches of the gnarled trees.

As the group vanished into a denser patch of forest, in the game table above Bakura grinned down at them. He was the Dark Master, and soon they would be trapped inside the game. It was only a matter of time.

Three of the bodies were slumped to the floor but Yugi blinked open his eyes, grasping the coffee table to pull himself up. He didn't look exactly like Yugi, however—there was a sharpness to his eyes, a sense of cruelty there that Bakura recognized because he saw it in his own reflection. Bakura was never surprised—he was far too resourceful for that—but all the same, this was a turn he had not expected.

"Being in two places at once is a desirable skill."

The other Yugi frowned, looking first to the game board, and then to his opponent. "A shadow game…then, you must have a Millennium Item." At his prompting, he rolled the dice. 52. A high enough number that the group continued onwards, safe for the moment.

"You mean this?" Bakura fished out the ring from beneath his shirt. He hadn't noticed before, but it was gleaming softly, no doubt a reaction to the other Item being so near. They called out to each other. He picked up the dice and rolled.

27. His eyes gleamed. "And this is where it gets interesting."

Below, Anzu stepped gingerly across the path. The fallen leaves crunched underneath her feet, and she felt each one as her slippers were made of very thin fabric. She looked out, searching the path before her when a hand reached up from under the ground, grasped her ankle, and _pulled_.

She screamed.

"Help!" Anzu had a wand, but for some reason it couldn't work, so she settled for using it like a club, doing anything she could to get it to release her leg from its grip. Nothing worked. Her feet started to slip beneath the surface of the path. It was pulling her underground.

Yugi ran towards her, his staff glowing. With a cry he directed a bolt of light at the creature and the hand released her, retreating back underground and away from the group. For a moment, they all stopped to catch their breaths and wait for their heartbeats to calm down. Anzu moved away from the spot where she had been sinking, looking distastefully at what was still clinging to her shoes. She lifted one foot upwards, scraping each shoe against a tree to remove the worst of it.

"L-let's not do that again," she said, shuddering. Her ankles were still streaked with mud.

Above, Bakura watched as they inched forwards through the maze of forest. "I see you're quite the gamesman."

"And you're a thief," the other Yugi said, rolling the dice. 70. The group found a hidden path that cut through a large swath of the forest directly, instead of how it appeared from the illustrations of the map—a tangle of twisting, winding paths. "How many souls have you taken?"

"Hardly enough." Bakura studied the game board. He had made it himself, and was very proud of it. After all, why play a game if he couldn't have a home field advantage? "Fascinating things, souls. They adapt to suit their container, like water. I wonder about _your_ container?"

"I'm more concerned with the nature of _this_ game." He rolled, just high enough that the four were able to cross over the next obstacle—a large fallen tree trunk—and continue on their way.

Bakura raised one eyebrow, picking up the dice and holding them expertly between his fingers. "Everything is a game. I've been playing one with my host ever since I've known him. We're playing one right now—two, if the specifics matter to you. And I have no doubt that we will meet again, just like this. It is _all_ a game. And when everyone is a player, winning and losing becomes infinitely more important." He let the dice fall.

05.

"Does anyone else think it smells like something's burning?" Jounouchi asked, sniffing the air. He searched the trees for any signs of smoke, but they were packed together so tightly that he couldn't make anything out. Then he looked upwards, and saw the monster closing in on them. "Everybody get down!"

A burst of fire filled the air above them as the dragon descended onto the path. Huge, monstrous, it sunk its claws into the ground and folded in its massive, leathery wings. The fire spread to the trees around them and they caught like kindling—the flames leapt between branches and licked at the tree trunks. Behind them, a heavy branch crashed to the ground.

Yugi sent another blast of energy from his magician's staff, but it barely made a scratch on the dragon. Honda fired his gun, aiming for the dragon's face, but the shot went wide, only just missing the target.

"I'm trying to put up a shield, but it's not working!" Anzu slapped at the wand with her free hand, hoping that something would make it work.

"You better hurry up and make it work, there's nowhere to hide!" Honda shouted as they clustered together in the path. The woods all around them were burning, the smoke filling the air and billowing up into the sky above the forest.

The dragon readied its attack, and with a great roar it sent another burst of fire towards them. At the same time, Anzu's wand started to give off sparks. She quickly waved it, and a jet of water gushed out, meeting the fireball in a burst of steam. They all fell to the ground coughing, the air too thick to even see through, but at least they were safe.

The dragon bellowed, rearing for another attack. "I think we made it angry!" Honda said, squinting through the smoke. If he couldn't see, he couldn't use his weapon. "What are we going to do?"

"Yes, what _are_ you going to do?" Bakura asked, grinning from his seat overlooking the game board. "Even if you defeat the dragon—a highly improbable feat—the fire will destroy them all!" He sneered. "You were very nearly a worthy opponent."

The other Yugi picked up the dice. He knew exactly what numbers he needed to roll. It would take a combination of strength, skill, timing, and luck, and he knew just where to find each of them… in the other players of the game. He would not fail them.

He rolled the dice. 04.

"We'll send you right back where you came from!" Jounouchi yelled, swinging his sword through the air. It cut a path through the smoke, revealing the dragon snorting and spitting, its head darting through the smoke above them. Just as they couldn't see it, the smoke had masked them from the dragon as well!

Anzu's wand began to emit gold-colored sparks, and the spell she cast was different, enchanting Honda's weapon and making it glow brightly. He leveled the gun at the dragon and pressed the trigger.

The bullets hit home, sinking into the dragon's skin. The monster began to glow as well, and it began to shrink in on itself. It got smaller and smaller; the dragon unfolded its wings, attempting to fly away but by then they were too light to support its weight. It fell to the ground as the golden glow centered at the dragon's head. It sprouted outwards and around the monster in a protective circle, hardening and forming a shell. The light vanished.

"Come on!" Jounouchi charged, swiping the smoke away with his sword. The others quickly followed, racing down the path before the fire consumed the entire forest. A fallen tree trunk blocked their path at one point; Yugi raised his staff and with one attack obliterated the fragile wood. They continued to run.

Above, the other Yugi held the dice in one hand. He looked smugly across at Bakura. "There is no more forest for them to go through—you've burned it to the ground. That means that the only thing left… is the castle of the Dark Master himself. Tell me, can you be in two places at once?"

Bakura scowled, taking the dice after his turn. He clearly understood the nature of games. For there to be a victory, there first has to be a loss. And it was all going to come down to a choice.

The castle was imposing, a building of gray stone that reached up towards the sky. The large, iron-riveted door was closed, and after several tries they found a way to open it. A beam of weak sunlight pierced through the open door, providing some of the only illumination in the room. They could just make out the rows and rows of candlesticks that littered the floor. Sheepishly, Ryou watched them enter. "I have candles, but no means to light them. I suppose it's too late for that anyways."

"You?" Jounouchi asked, surprise coloring his voice. "The Dark Master is _you_?"

Ryou nodded, the tips of his hair blending into his long white robe.

"But the point of the game is to defeat the Dark Master," Yugi said, looking down at his staff. Could he even do it? "You would have to…"

"Lose, I know," Ryou said, offering a weak smile to them all. "For someone to have won, someone else has to lose. It's how games work. And you all are my friends—I can't let him win…I-I can't win…"

"But you're also our friend!" Jounouchi moved forward into the darkness of the castle. "You can't tell us to do that. We'll just not fight. There won't be any winner."

"Then none of us will ever leave this place. The game is only finished when a side wins. You have to do it—remember what I asked you one day, when I said I might be evil?"

Jounouchi nodded slowly.

"I am," he said, his throat suddenly dry. "Bakura, he's put several others into comas, and if you all don't stop him now, I'm not sure anyone can."

"No, you're not evil," Jounouchi said. "I told you, I can tell! So shut up about us attacking you, because it's not going to happen. We can't do it."

"Maybe we don't have to," Yugi spoke up, looking curiously at Ryou's own magician's staff. "What kind of spells can you do?"

"Anything, I think. It all depends on the roll. …Why?"

Yugi shrugged his shoulders, looking enigmatically up to the sky above them, where two men sat on opposite sides of a game board. Softly, he whispered, "let him have it."

The other Yugi smiled grimly. It was just what he had been waiting for. "Your Ring has its own unique abilities," he said, stretching out his hand, "and you're about to learn that so does mine! _Penalty Game_!"

Bakura's eyes closed instantly. He fell backwards limply onto the floor, the two dice falling out of his hands and rolling across the floor. One stopped on a zero, the other rolled underneath the table and out of his sight, but he knew that they would get just the number that they needed.

01.

Ryou cast his spell, the strongest spell that he could. He wished for his body back, wished to reverse his game token with the game player, to return to his world where he was happy and whole. He wished for _all_ of his friends to open their eyes. Bakura opened his to find himself inside of a grey stone castle, staring at the four people he had put there, and they did not look happy about it.

Above, the other Yugi quickly picked up the dice and rolled. They had won. Bakura would be trapped inside this world of his own creation. He looked across the table as Ryou opened his eyes and sat up, rubbing his eyes when he saw him. "Um…hi."

"The others will be waking up soon," he said, smiling, "but I think it's for the best if you go back to sleep for a minute." He couldn't have them remembering the game, let alone his own identity as a player. There would be another time, and other games for that. He grinned as he leaned backwards, settling against the floor. Perhaps Bakura got one thing right after all.

* * *

><p>It was, quite possibly, the best sleep Ryou had gotten in his entire life. His dreams were vivid and fantastic, and he smiled into his pillow. He finally felt that things were starting to be set right.<p>

In a shoebox set on a low shelf, the Millennium Ring slept. In the darkness underneath Ryou's bed, the lone shard of a mirror looked outwards, watching and waiting.

* * *

><p><strong><em>The End.<em>**

* * *

><p>Author's Notes:<p>

**Chiaroscuro** is often used in art to describe the practice of using strong contrasts between light and dark, usually bold contrasts affecting a whole composition.

Here are some information/rules of **Monster World**, so far as I am aware: It's a tabletop RPG from the manga and First series anime. There are two ten-sided dice, and you roll the dice to determine if you fight a monster. There is a threshold number that you have to roll higher than (this is dependent on where you are), so say it's 30. Roll 30+ you're safe, keep going. You roll a 29, you fight a monster. You roll a 10; you fight a really strong monster. 00 is Zorc D:

Rolling a 99 is a critical fumble, and that means that your soul gets trapped within the game. I extrapolated this number system to mean that if you're fighting the monster, rolling lower means a more powerful attack, and if you rolled above the threshold number, your attack didn't work, or you missed, etc (which is why Anzu's wand didn't work earlier, or Honda missed, or the smoke got in the way and the dragon couldn't see/attack). I don't have personal experience with RPG or anything, so if anyone can fill me in on things to make that part of the story more awesome, then by all means, let me know!

One scene of this story is continued/elaborated at the livejournal community yugiohdrabbles for their second challenge.

Thank you for reading and please review, I value and treasure each one.


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